


Textual Healing

by zilia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Technology lets us down, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zilia/pseuds/zilia
Summary: Always always always proof-read.





	Textual Healing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Claudia_flies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudia_flies/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Исцеляющий текст](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046582) by [fandom_Evanstan_and_Co_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Evanstan_and_Co_2018/pseuds/fandom_Evanstan_and_Co_2018), [Zamykaet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zamykaet/pseuds/Zamykaet)



> This is a long-awaited birthday gift for the endlessly patient and all-round wonderful Claudia_flies. Happy birthday!
> 
> This is also inspired - extremely loosely - by a real event. Always proof-read your emails, kids!
> 
> ETA: I had to make a minor change to the ending after an eagle-eyed reader pointed out a plothole. Sigh. This is the problem with gifting things to your beta that your beta can't read in advance!

Sebastian slung his bag onto his hotel room bed and rolled his shoulders, relieved to have finally reached his destination after such a long time travelling. A long-distance train trip had seemed like a good idea when he’d booked it months ago – an irresistible combination of sophisticated, romantic, and slightly eccentric – but the reality of it had been a little different. For one thing, it had been a huge time-sink; almost 36 hours in total. For another, due to the timings he’d arrived the night before everyone else, as they’d all be coming via various red-eyes the next day. For a third, it was nowhere near as comfortable to spend a long time on a train as the Amtrak website had made it sound, even taking the most expensive accommodation. His entire body felt stiff and sore. At least it was late enough that all he had to do was order room service, shower, and go to bed.

 

He paced restlessly for a few minutes as he worked out the small aches in his upper body. Despite the exhausting journey, his mind was agitated. Marvel press events were always stressful; he spent them constantly on edge, worrying about difficult questions or accidentally giving away top-secret spoilers. He had ways of coping, but they required a lot of energy.

 

His mind drifted, and he remembered that he’d had an email from Chris sitting in his inbox that he’d done nothing about for over a week. If he was going to see Chris tomorrow, he really couldn’t leave that unanswered; it was good manners, for one thing, and it would be nice to feel connected to someone else for a moment, even through something as tenuous as an email. He scrolled through his phone until he found it and fired off a quick reply, rambling about the books he’d been reading and the weather and his adventures with Don in the gym, complaining about bad train food and the lack of decent coffee. Then, inspired, he added a line about Chris’s dog, asking for pictures. He knew how much Chris loved that dog; he never stopped talking about it, and Sebastian had always been one for a cute dog picture.

 

Email sent, he set the phone down and reached for the room service menu, idly browsing through the options. Not much choice, but you could rarely go wrong with a classic burger and fries. He lifted his bedside phone and placed the order, feeling better already in anticipation of something decent to eat. The guy at the desk told him twenty minutes, so he took the opportunity for a shower, letting the hot water ease the aches in his muscles. Once he was done, he towelled himself dry and slipped into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt to take delivery of his burger, which he devoured in a few ecstatic bites. He was just investigating the minibar when he heard his phone buzz from the nightstand.

 

He closed the fridge – nothing very interesting in there anyway – and crossed the room. The phone buzzed twice more before he reached it. When he picked it up, he saw he’d received three WhatsApp messages from Chris.

 

_hey man_

_just got your email_

_bit of a surprise_

Sebastian thought for a moment and then texted back.

 

_yeah sorry I haven’t been in touch much recently, I’ve been busy_

He saw from the top of the screen that Chris was typing a reply.

 

_no man that’s cool_

_are you sure you want to see pictures? I didn’t know you were interested._

Sebastian grinned to himself. There was no quicker way to win Chris’s affection than to appeal to his love of dogs, the big goof.

 

_sure, I’d love to see him_

_shit it’s a him right?_

_you call him him?_

 

Chris texted back.

 

_you can call him whatever you want ;)_

This seemed…unexpected, but he decided to go with it.

 

_I bet he’d be really excited to see you ;)_

_Hang on, I’ll get you some pictures_

Seconds later, his phone buzzed again, and Sebastian was nonplussed to download a picture of a dick.

 

***

 

He was frozen in confusion for a moment. Was that… _Chris’s_ dick?

 

After a moment, he realised that it was highly unlikely that Chris would be sending him photos of anyone else’s dick. He wracked his brains. What had he done to prompt this? He noticed, somewhat belatedly, that it was a _very_ nice dick, but that didn’t seem particularly relevant just now.

 

Before he could ask Chris to stop texting him unsolicited penis pictures, the phone buzzed a further two times, each time heralding the arrival of a further picture, of the same dick but with slight changes to the angle and lighting.

 

Sebastian stared at his phone screen for a few long seconds. Then, concerned that he was leaving it too long to text back, although at a complete loss as to what to say, he typed the first thing that came into his head.

_thank you_

 

As soon as it was sent, he wanted to punch himself in the face. He’d never received a dick pic before, let alone from a friend and colleague, and so he wasn’t sure of the etiquette, but he was pretty sure _thank you_ was not the appropriate response. _Shit._ What could he say to make that better? The screen was still glowing, the pictures of Chris’s dick still very much visible. His eyes strayed to them every few seconds as though drawn by magnets before snapping back to the middle distance to allow him to contemplate the towering awkwardness of what had just occurred.

 

Even to an unsolicited dick pic – or had he solicited it somehow? how? – _thank you_ seemed cold.

 

There was no response from Chris.

 

To delay having to think of a way to control the damage, Sebastian minimised the WhatsApp conversation and opened his email app, determined to understand what it was that he had done to cause this to happen. Sure enough, his own words glared mockingly back at him. Or, more accurately, his own _word._ Because he hadn’t typed ‘dog’ in his request for pictures.

 

He had typed ‘dong.’

 

Well, that answered _that_ question.

 

His brain was jangling at him. Should he write back to Chris and explain what had happened? Should he attempt to style it out? Should he, heaven forbid, reciprocate? Paralysed by indecision, he set the phone down to allow himself a moment to think. The words _thank you_ echoed around his brain, mocking him.

 

The phone buzzed again, and in the scramble to grab it, Sebastian somehow managed to launch it across the room. He watched it happen almost in slow motion. The phone hit the wall with a resounding _smack_ and fell into several irreparable pieces.

 

_Well, that’s OK._ Sebastian thought. _I’ll just send him an email explaining. That’s fine. Maybe I can blame it on English not being my native language._

Given his two decades spent on American soil, this seemed a weak excuse even in the privacy of his own mind. However, it was rendered immaterial when he replayed his decision, made almost 48 hours earlier, to forego bringing any further pieces of technology with him on this trip, no laptop, no tablet, nothing, in the interests of travelling light.

 

Well, he wasn’t going to be replying to Chris any time tonight, then.

 

_Or looking at his dick again,_ said a small, rebellious voice in his brain.

 

Strangely, something about the fact of the phone breaking helped to calm him. There was nothing to be done, so he would do nothing. Mechanically, he rose to his feet, gathered up the broken pieces of the phone, and set them carefully on the nightstand by his bed, like shattered relics of some incomprehensible magic ritual. He called the front desk and asked them to give him a wake-up call the next morning, and then he took off his socks, got into bed, and turned the lights off, fully intending to go straight to sleep.

 

_This is fine,_ Sebastian told himself. _This is absolutely, completely, one-hundred percent fine._

 

He stared at the ceiling in the darkness, wondering how unethical it would be to jerk off to tantalisingly half-remembered, tastefully lit accidental images of his friend and colleague’s dick.

 

It seemed pretty unethical at 11pm, but by 2:30am it seemed acceptable, and by 5am, it was an absolute no-brainer.

 

He was going to hell.

 

***

 

The next day, Sebastian woke up at the correct time, still feeling like he was slightly on auto-pilot. Following a shower, he dressed, agonised over his hair, and went downstairs for breakfast. He was so nervous he could hardly eat anything, but he managed a large cup of coffee and a nibble at a blueberry muffin. All he could think of was having to face Chris, and having no idea of what he would say. How to explain to him that he’d inadvertently requested a dick pic? But also had actually been really into it?

 

How had he never considered the fact that he might have been into Chris before, when now it was literally all he could think about? It was like opening a box and all of Pandora’s forbidden dicks flying out at him at once.

 

And now he was thinking about flying dicks. _Wonderful._

 

The day was as long and arduous as he had feared, but he got through it OK, mostly through his carefully cultivated air of complete cluelessness, which was a good coping mechanism, but one that required a lot of effort. He distracted interviewers from any awkward questions by alternating shy smiles with exaggeratedly dorky mannerisms. If he knew the internet – and he did – by this time tomorrow it would be full of gifs of him looking wide-eyed, dumb, and slightly apologetic. Most importantly, he managed not to answer any of the questions with “I’ve seen Chris Evans’s dick, and it’s a good one, and I want it,” despite the fact that he’d been thinking it so loudly for most of the day he was surprised other people couldn’t hear him. That would rather shatter the façade he’d been working so carefully to construct.

 

He had seen Chris in the distance several times, but he’d managed to avoid him until, when he was chancing his luck and grabbing a cup of coffee after all the interviews were over, he was cornered by him in the bar.

 

Chris was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a dumb baseball cap and Sebastian didn’t know whether he wanted to throw himself at him or hide under the nearest table. Now that he’d actually _seen_ him up close, there was no denying it. His attraction to Chris, along with Pandora’s flying dicks, was well and truly out of the box.

 

“Hi,” Chris said carefully.

 

“Hi,” Sebastian replied, just as carefully.

 

“Been trying to call you all day.”

 

“I’m sorry. I broke my phone.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

Chris’s tone was dripping with disbelief, and Sebastian scrambled to explain.

 

“I accidentally threw it at the wall.”

 

It sounded stupid even to him.

 

“What were you doing to accidentally throw your phone at the wall?”

 

_Flipping out at the sight of your dick._ “Oh, you know.”

 

Sadly, his defence mechanism of looking deliberately confused until people left him alone, which worked so well with journalists, had precisely zero success with Chris, who was bright red, but doggedly continuing this car crash of a conversation.

 

“So, about my pictures…” he began, and Sebastian blurted, “they were very nice!”

 

Chris raised an eyebrow. “ _Nice?_ ”

 

_Shit._ Mittens were nice, scones were nice. For dick pics, you needed to up your game. “Um, really nice?” He wanted to throw himself out of the window. _Do better, Seb._

 

“Look, Seb, I get it. You asked me for pictures, then you changed your mind.”

 

Chris’s tone was cold, closed-off, not at all like his usual exuberance.

 

“No, that’s not what…”

 

“Or you just wanted to laugh at me. You could at least own up to it instead of making stuff up. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t work on me.”

 

Sebastian felt he had fucked up, badly, and he was furious with the universe, because he hadn’t even done it on purpose. Stupid hypermobile wrists. Stupid Winter Soldier knife training.

 

“ _No_ ,” he said, starting to panic. “It was an accident! You’ve gotta believe me, Chris, it was just a typo, I honestly just wanted to ask you about your dog, and then I panicked, and…look, I can prove it to you. Come up to my room now, I’ll show you my broken phone.”

 

Chris sighed, looking unconvinced.

 

“ _Please_.”

 

After a moment, Chris said, “Sure. OK.” He was still using that horrible cold voice, but he did at least follow Sebastian out of the bar and into the lobby, carefully keeping more distance from him than he usually would. Sebastian’s stomach gave a horrible twist.

 

The ride in the elevator was tense. Sebastian was practically vibrating out of his skin with the awkwardness of it, looking everywhere but at Chris, which was difficult, because the elevator was mirrored. It was a long ride, and the elevator stopped several times for various people to get in and out. Sebastian had just settled on the one blind spot that didn’t reflect any corner of his gaze onto any part of Chris when there was a ‘ding’ and they arrived at his floor.

 

Wordlessly, he led Chris down the corridor. It was a bit like being observed by an executioner. Chris watched as he fumbled with the keycard to his room. Once he finally got the door open, Sebastian solemnly led Chris to the nightstand by his bed, where the pieces of his phone lay, preserved as incontrovertible proof of his innocence. He pointed at them wordlessly, like the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, unsure of what to say apart from “see?!”, which would have sounded childish.

 

Chris said nothing for a moment.

 

“You seriously don’t think I’d break my phone on purpose just to avoid having to text you back?” Sebastian asked, feeling mildly exasperated with Chris’s continued silence.

 

“You seriously expect me to believe you meant to type ‘dog’ and ended up with ‘dong’?” Chris countered.

 

Sebastian sighed. “I know it sounds ridiculous. But it really is the truth. I panicked when I got your text, didn’t know how to respond, and before I could figure out what to say, I got another text from you, jumped out of my skin, and flicked the phone at the wall.”

 

“Why didn’t you email me?”

 

“I didn’t have anything else with me. Left my laptop at home.”

 

“You couldn’t borrow a phone? A laptop from someone? A hotel computer?”

 

All of which would have been sensible options. None of which had occurred to him at the time. “I didn’t think! It was late, I was tired, I was still processing it… Look, I promise you, next time you send me a bunch of dick pics I didn’t mean to ask for and I accidentally destroy my phone, my priority will be to contact you and explain myself. I will leave no stone unturned.”

 

That at least got a laugh out of Chris.

 

“’Please let me borrow your laptop, Chris Evans needs to know how I accidentally asked to see his dick,’ I will say. People will understand.”

 

“Only you, Seb...” Chris muttered. “Fine. I’m sorry. But you can see why I freaked out? When I didn’t hear anything from you, I figured you must have been messing with me.”

 

“Why were you so eager to send me pics, instead of checking that that’s what I meant?” Sebastian asked him. “It must have come out of the blue, no? All that random shit about books and trains and whatever and then a request to see your dick?”

 

Chris blushed. “I may have had my judgement slightly impaired by a combination of nerves, loneliness, and bourbon. Plus…I was kinda thinking about you anyway.”

 

If possible, he blushed _more_. Sebastian frowned.

 

“What, seriously?”

 

“Let’s just say that when it looked like you were interested, I didn’t exactly stop to rationalise it. I was just…happy. So I took the pictures and sent them before I’d really thought about it.”

 

Oh. _Oh._

 

“And now it turns out I was accidentally sexually harassing you, and I’m so so sorry, Seb, it makes me no better than any of those other jerks who send dick pics, and...”

 

Sebastian suddenly recognised a patented Rapid-Onset Chris Evans Anxiety Spiral. This would go on for hours if he didn’t forestall it, and he had just realised that he was alone in a hotel room with a guy he wanted and who had just confessed to wanting him and that there were _far_ better things they could be doing than being reciprocally anxious at each other. He knew what he had to do.

 

His hands went to his belt.

 

Chris interrupted himself when he noticed. “Seb, what are you doing?”

 

“Well, you already showed me yours.”

 

“Are you _serious_?”

 

“Look, I’ll be honest. I didn’t realise, before last night. You’re a friend, you’ve always been a friend. But then I got those pictures, and I was surprised, yeah, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and Chris…you’re. You’re great.” It wasn’t a strong start, but, feeling like he was finally on to something, he didn’t want to risk stopping. “You’re _really_ great. And I owe you a look, at least. If you want one.”

 

For several seconds, neither of them said anything. Then, slowly, Chris nodded.

 

“OK. Yes.”

 

He’d been the focus of people’s attention all day, but it hadn’t felt anything like as intense as this. This mattered so much more; he felt more like himself now than he had all day. It was intimidating, but he’d have been lying – and in entirely the wrong career – if he’d said he didn’t also find it exhilarating.

 

His poor dick sprang to attention so fast that it almost gave him whiplash.

 

Sebastian pulled the belt out of the belt loops and pushed his jeans down to his ankles, stepping out of them and kicking them gently to one side. Then, after Chris had had a long look at him, he slipped his boxers down too. For good measure, he yanked his sweater and t-shirt off, and stood naked in front of Chris.

 

Despite his nerves, he was still hard, intoxicated with being the full focus of Chris’s attention. Chris simply looked at him for a moment, his gaze flitting between Sebastian’s dick and his eyes, checking the reaction. Then he took several slow, measured steps forwards, until he was standing just in front of him.

 

“You look with your eyes, not with your hands, Evans,” Sebastian teased, though his mouth was dry.

 

“How about with my mouth?” Chris retorted.

 

Sebastian cocked his head. “You’re kidding?”

 

“Not if you don’t want me to be.”

 

He could only nod wordlessly, and seconds later Chris sank to his knees and engulfed him in smooth, wet heat. Sebastian tipped his head back and closed his eyes, sighing softly as Chris worked his dick with expert, gentle pressure. He rested his hands gently, tentatively, on the top of Chris’s head, and Chris moaned enthusiastically, pushing back into Sebastian’s touch until he got the message and tangled his fingers in Chris’s hair. A light tugging confirmed his suspicions when it was greeted with another moan. _Subby bastard_ , Sebastian thought fondly, before most semblances of coherent thought were wiped from his brain as Chris swirled his tongue around him. His knees felt weak.

 

“Chris…Chris, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned.

 

Chris hummed, but didn’t stop, and the sensation of it only intensified matters.

 

“I’m serious, Chris,” he gasped, and Chris pulled off him slowly with a long sucking sound. The sound of it should have been funny, but it wasn’t, somehow. When Chris stood up, Sebastian could see that his lips were wet and red, and he wanted to bite them. Leaning forwards, he nipped at him, teasing Chris’s mouth open with his teeth and tongue until they were kissing properly.

 

“Do you want to take this further?” Chris asked him, after long moments of some seriously good making out.

 

Well, _that_ was a stupid question. “What did you have in mind?”

 

He could feel Chris’s smirk against his own mouth. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any ideas?”

 

“Wellllllllll,” he drew the word out while wondering how much he dared ask for. Sex with men wasn’t new to him, but sex with Chris was. He had no idea of Chris’s sexual history in this regard. 

 

“You can tell me,” Chris insisted. “Just be yourself, Seb. Say what you think, for once.”

 

That made him pull away, and he suddenly wished he wasn’t naked. “What do you mean? I always say what I think.”

 

“Not when you’re in interview mode, you don’t. You’ll have been protecting yourself all day, you always do at these things.”

 

Somehow it always surprised him how observant Chris was, even though he should have known better by now, after all these years. He thought back to what Chris had said earlier. _Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t work on me._ At the time, he hadn’t understood what he’d meant. Now, he thought he did.

 

“I don’t care why, we’ve all gotta keep something back if we want to stay sane. But you don’t have to do it now, Seb. Not if you don’t want to.”

 

“Doesn’t look like I can help it,” he said. He laughed as something occurred to him. “Apparently I couldn’t even hide that I wanted to see your dick from you, and I didn’t even know that myself. Freudian slip, maybe.”

 

Chris grinned. “True. No hiding from me.”

 

“Especially as _I’m_ naked and _you’re_ not.”

 

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Should I even things up?”

 

It felt so good to be able to give a direct answer to a question. “Yes. Though of course it’s old news to me now.”

 

Chris laughed his dumb loud laugh, and it felt good to hear it. The awkwardness of a few moments ago had evaporated, and he was back to feeling comfortable in his skin. In _only_ his skin. Chris undressed so quickly he was almost a blur, and then he was standing naked, his body looking beautifully enticing and his dick gloriously hard.

 

Sebastian had to take a moment just to take it in.

 

“You still haven’t told me what you want, though,” Chris reminded him, and he dragged his eyes back up to Chris’s face.

 

“Is this the first…” he began, not sure how bluntly to phrase it. Chris saved him by interrupting.

 

“Not my first time, no, though it’s been a while.”

 

Sebastian felt a thrill of excitement. Chris sounded nervous, but unmistakably enthusiastic. “Guess I’ll take my time, then.”

 

“Do you have condoms?” Chris asked.

 

Weirdly enough, he did. “Yes.” When Chris looked incredulously at him, he felt he had to justify himself. “What, you’ve never picked anyone up before? You’ve gotta be prepared!”

 

“Didn’t have you down as a boy scout.”

 

“You’re not complaining though.”

 

“ _Definitely_ not.” Chris closed the distance between them and kissed him again, letting his hands drop to Sebastian’s hips and grabbing handfuls of his ass. “So tell me, which way around do you prefer?”

 

“I’m flexible,” Sebastian admitted. Then, remembering Chris’s request from earlier, he added, “But I prefer to be on top.”

 

Chris’s eyes gleamed. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He released Sebastian and gave him a little push. “Go get the condoms and the lube. You have lube?” Sebastian nodded. “Good. Go.”

 

Sebastian stumbled to the bathroom in a daze, rummaging frantically through his toiletries to find the supplies, thanking his lucky stars that he’d brought them. He almost sprinted back into the bedroom, skidding to a halt when he saw Chris on all fours on the bed, ass in the air.

 

Any residual doubts about whether Chris was into this or not disappeared in an instant.

 

He clambered onto the bed and draped himself over Chris, biting his neck and the backs of his shoulders. Chris arched up against him, grinding back against his dick.

 

“You really want this, huh?”

 

“What gave it away? C’mon, get on with it!”

 

Sebastian got on with it, clicking open the lube and drizzling some over his fingers. He stroked over Chris’s asshole, getting him nice and wet, teasing him with gentle gliding touches and laughing softly at Chris’s frustrated growls and little wriggles.

 

“ _Seb_ ,” he hissed, and Sebastian relented and slid two fingers slowly into him. Chris shuddered and bore down, and Sebastian set about stretching him, working the muscle open. He sank his fingers deeper, searching for Chris’s prostate, and relished the sound he made when he found it, a desperate, needy whimper.

 

“I promised I’d take my time,” he breathed in Chris’s ear, flexing his fingers, wanting to hear Chris make that sound again and delighted when he actually did. He took Chris apart little by little, until Chris was begging him for more, his face buried in the pillows, his breathing harsh and ragged.

 

“Please, Seb…please.”

 

“OK, OK.”

 

Sebastian nipped a line of kisses along Chris’s shoulder blades as he withdrew his fingers, fumbling to get the condom on and slicking himself with more lube. Then he lined up and sank into him, and Chris made an even more gratifying sound. He had intended to set a slow, steady pace, but Chris had other ideas, pushing back against him and forcing Sebastian to move faster. They moved together, Chris’s back pressed against Sebastian’s front, their skin hot and sticky, the heat almost unbearably good. Remembering how Chris had reacted earlier, Sebastian grasped a handful of Chris’s hair, pulling his head backwards, and this wrung yet another glorious sound out of him.

 

Dimly, he recognised that the headboard of the bed was banging against the wall with the force of their movements, and he knew he should feel embarrassed, should worry about being overheard, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He yanked a little harder on Chris’s hair, lifting his head so that he could kiss him, though neither of them had any finesse by now and it was more teeth than anything else. Chris was panting and shaking, his muscles trembling, making wordless sounds, his eyes squeezed shut. Sebastian reached around to take hold of Chris’s cock, working it over with long, firm strokes, and after six or seven pulls Chris came, gushing over Sebastian’s hand. Chris groaned and collapsed onto the bed, and Sebastian went with him, his mind whiting out as his orgasm hit.

 

He gradually became aware of a flurry of buzzing noises coming from the other side of the room, which broke into his consciousness and interrupted his afterglow.

 

"Chris," he muttered, poking him, though still keeping his eyes closed. "Your phone's going off."

 

They disentangled themselves, and Sebastian heard Chris stumble away and start rummaging around, presumably in the pile of clothes he had left on the flor. The buzzing mercifully stopped, and Chris returned to the bed a few seconds later, flopping down next to Sebastian, his phone in his hand.

 

“It’s Mackie."

 

Sebastian reluctantly opened his eyes and turned to look at Chris, although it wasn't exactly a hardship. “What does he want?”

 

“Drinks later. You up for it?"

 

“Maybe after we’ve had another round. Or two.”

 

Chris grinned at him, his eyes gleaming. “Sounds like a plan. OK." He handed Sebastian the phone. "Text him back for me, put him off for a couple of hours? I'll go get us something to clean up."

 

Sebastian was touched and a little surprised that Chris was trusting him with his phone, until he saw that Chris's face was plastered with a gigantic smirk; a familiar expression, the one he usually wore when he was about to do or say something he considered hilarious. It was mostly cute, though a little obnoxious. He sighed inwardly, waiting for the blow to fall, and sure enough:

 

“Hey, Seb?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You'd better proof-read it first. Don’t wanna end up in a threesome.”

 

Sebastian hit him with a pillow, and Chris cackled all the way to the bathroom.


End file.
